Page 64 of A Part of Me and You
‘Thanks Shelley. You’ve been so kind to us and I will definitely phone you lots and lots,’ she sniffles. ‘I dread when I can’t walk in here and chat to you like this. I can’t talk to anyone like I can talk to you.’
And now I do shed a tear. To think that this little girl feels even a little bit better by talking to me makes me fill up inside.
‘Well, we have to make every moment count then, don’t we? I know, why don’t you walk up to my house and leave Merlin back there and by the time you walk back here, I’ll be finished and we’ll both go see your mum, how’s that?’ I suggest to her, thinking the responsibility of seeing to the dog might just distract her for a little while. Plus, Merlin is becoming irritable and restless and I can sense he has had quite enough of being out and about for one day. He is a home bird, old Merlin and we need to think of him too, if only to help ourselves.
Rosie nods to me as her tears subside and she pats the dog. I give her the key to my house and hold her hand for a moment.
‘Take a big deep breath, Rosie,’ I say to her. ‘You’re doing so well. Let’s try and make the most of the next few days and keep having fun, eh?’
‘Yes, yes I will,’ she says. ‘I am so glad we came here now. It’s been the best time ever, mostly because of you.’
‘And you’ve helped me too, don’t forget. Now, when you get to the house, just open the door and let old Merlin in to the hallway and hopefully he won’t follow you from the dog flap and you can make your escape back here,’ I tell her. ‘In fact, put him in the kitchen and that will give you enough breathing space to make your move because he loves being in there and by the time he notices you are gone, you’ll be at the bottom of the driveway at least.’
Rosie takes the key from me and manages a smile.
‘Oh, and here’s the alarm code,’ I remember. ‘It’s really simple. Hold him on the lead until you punch in the six numbers, and then walk him to the kitchen and you’re done. Is that okay?’
She takes it all in.
‘I feel like I’m in Mission Impossible with all those instructions,’ she says and the way her little face lights up tugs at my heart until it’s sore. ‘It’s one of our favourite movies. Mum just loves Tom Cruise.’
‘Well, we might just have a good old Tom Cruise feast tonight then while your mum puts her feet up,’ I suggest. ‘I think that sounds good, don’t you?’
I wipe away her tears with my thumbs and tilt her chin up, just as Matt does to me when I’m having a tough time coping with all that I have been dealt with. It always makes me feel better to have that physical touch and direct eye contact when I need to pull it together.
‘I wish we could just stay here and it could always be like it has been since we met you,’ she says to me and I shake my head slowly.
‘I will always be here for you, Rosie,’ I tell her. ‘You’re a special girl to me and I think you and I have become buddies, what do you think?’
‘I’m afraid that we’ll never see you again once we leave,’ she says to me, and my heart warms up so much I feel it might burst that she might want to keep in touch. ‘You know, after everything.’
‘I have a feeling we’ll keep in touch, so don’t even think about that now,’ I tell her. ‘You know you can talk to me whenever you want and that’s a promise. Now, go and let your other old pal there get home for a rest and I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.’
‘Thank you, Shelley,’ she says to me, wiping fresh tears with the back of her hand.
‘No, thankyou, Rosie,’ I whisper as I stand at the door and watch her make her way up the hill onto the outskirts of the village where my house stands on the highest point of Killara.
Rosie doesn’t realize it, but I dread the day that she leaves here just as much as she does. I fear that if I don’t see her again I might spiral back into that deep dark hole of grief and I can’t even dare to think of going back there again. Juliette has given me tough love when I needed it to face the world again and see the good in people like Sarah and Leo. She’s forced me to realize how I have been doing myself no favours by shutting the people out who really do care for me. She has shown me that, just like she has done, I am pushing the man I love away when all I really want to do is pull him closer. She has shown me the beauty of laughter and good food, of fresh air and of spontaneity, while her daughter has filled me up inside by just letting me be there for her as a shoulder to cry on when she needs it because we have so much pain in common.
Betty’s scribbled piece of paper still lies scrunched up in the wastepaper bin so I take it out the back to the wheelie bin and drop it in, feeling relief at getting rid of it. I need to keep going forward, like my dad says, one day at a time.
I have just about enough time to call him before Rosie gets back here. I need to hear his voice to keep me going, one day at a time.
Juliette
‘You’re an angel, Shelley,’ I say to my Florence Nightingale friend when she hands me a steaming bowl of tomato soup as I lie on the sofa, snug as a bug with a comfy blanket around me and my favourite pyjamas on. ‘I could get used to your cooking. I hope I don’t look too scary, do I?’
I have taken the liberty of not wearing my wig this evening as I can’t bear it with the headache and it’s making me itch. Shelley shakes her head.
‘You look like Marilyn Monroe, wig or no wig,’ she jokes. I must have told her my nickname for the wig at some stage. I can’t remember. Oh God, there are so many things now that just slip in and out of my memory and it makes me lose my breath. Little things, like where I put something or something I said or didn’t say. I don’t want to forget the big things. I need my memories to keep me going on bad days like this.
It’s like a winter’s evening outside and I honestly don’t know what I would do without Shelley here to keep us going and distract Rosie a little. They are setting up the living room for a movie night with the fire lit and Shelley has brought along some Tom Cruise DVDs which is so kind of her. She is such a sweetheart.
‘So, what do you fancy then, first, Madame?’ Shelley says to me. ‘We have Top Gun for a bit of phwoar factor, Cocktail for some good old retro cheese, or the action of Mission Impossible which I believe to be one of your favourites. You choose?’
Rosie pulls the curtains closed and lights some scented candles (also supplied by Shelley) and I revel in the warmth of being looked after so well.
‘I think some phwoar factor is what is needed right now,’ I say to them both and Rosie rolls her eyes.
